I amgrey and brilliant gold,falling back into the earthlike vapours of exhausted breath.The old patterns emergeas the lay of the ground comes closer-the nook and shelter of a trees crook,a rock in the place where my shouldersettles in-habits of comfort and pain.I am a whole year olderand the rise of the land remains unchanged.I will push myself up and over the slope again, again,feel the stone on the fibre of my skinpressing, pressing,until I make a shiftIt is fall and I am falling back,drifting down, my every celldissipates like mistwhen the morning warmthcurves away the time.I fall differently-I am shifting, in all this-shifting and turning in mid-air.It is no use trying to keepmyself together.I settle on fir needles, on spiderwebs,on the tips of grass blades.I seep into mushrooms and leaves,slip through deers’ tonguesand the beaks of chickadees.I will vaporize.I see your eyes as they searchthe fog for me-I land on your lips again and againand I recondensewith a richer understandingof wholeness.